Happy Ever Afters Don't Exist
by lotzalove
Summary: If "Happy Ever Afters" did exist,I would still be holding you like this, All those fairy tales are full of it, One more stupid love song, I'll be sick. Inspired by Maroon 5's Payphone. Is Sara too late to save Greg from himself and will the others ever forgive her if she is? Possible charecter death sorry the last one got removed I REPOSTed it. Rated for swearing and mature themes.
1. Now I'm paralysed

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**Okay, this was just an idea I got into my head from listening to Maroon 5s Payphone. Review if you want more.**

* * *

**Sorry about the last one, I had song lyrics in the title with bad words so it got removed. Anyway, it's reposted now, and I finished it!**

"Hey, Nick, do you know where Greg is?" Sara Sidle asked, seeing the Texan in the break room.

"No." he answered coldly.

"Hey, I think your coffee's ready." she smiled, gesturing the beeping coffee machine.

"Don't want it anymore." he replied, getting up to leave.

"You sure?"

"I need to be somewhere anyway."

"Nick?" she asked. "What is it?"

"Why would you do that to him?" he asked. Sara froze, knowing exactly what he meant. She opened her mouth to protest, to defend herself, to make some half-hearted attempt at explaining. But he cut her off.

"Save it."

She looked at the retreating figure, her mouth still open. She should have expected that. She left to go find Catherine. She might know where he was.

As soon as Sara walked into the layout room, Catherine walked right out. Sara called her back.

"Catherine?"

"Sara." she responded, her tone similar to Nick's, except angrier.

_How many people had he told?_

"Just answer this for me, Sara, why?" Catherine asked her.

"I...I just felt like..."

"You know what, I don't care why anymore. I hope you're happy."

Then Catherine turned on her heel and walked away.

Sara ran through the list of people in her head, Warrick, no, if Greg told Nick and Catherine he would have told Warrick too. Grissom? No he was part of the problem. One of the lab techs would have to do. She just needed to talk to someone.

Sara walked into the DNA lab first. Mandy and Wendy sat on their deskchairs, gossiping about something over cups of coffee.

"Hi." she smiled, coming up to their table.

"Your results are in the printer." Wendy told her.

"Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you too about something."

"Greg?"

"He told you?"

"He didn't have to. He talks about you all the time for the last week. Then he's all depressed."

"It didn't happen like you think, I..."

"Greg is the only one of the CSI's who scomes by the lab just to talk to us. The only one who ever invites us out, or brings us takeaway from that diner you guys always go to. He's the only one who remembers our birthdays. Who's side do you think we're going to take?"

Sara left the DNA lab, half contemplating talking to Henry, Archie, Bobby or even Hodges. But when she passed the AV lab, she heard a conversation.

"...can't believe..." she heard Archie's voice.

"...he doesn't deserve..." Henry was saying.

"What a bitch." that bit was Bobby.

"Even I...not fair" Hodges added.

Sighing, Sara walked on. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were talking about.

She dialed Greg's cell again. Still voicemail. She really needed to talk to him.

She reached the locker room, where Warrick sat, tying his shoelace he looked up as she came in, them pointedly looked down again. Ignoring him, Sara saw the envelope stuck to her locker door. She recognised Greg's untidy handwriting. Tearing it open, she pulled out the letter inside.

Dear Sara

It pains me to say this, but I hope you are happy with him.

Love Greg.

Sara read it three times before her legs collapsed beneath her. She was aware of Warrick looking at her, but he made no effort to help. Pulling herself up again, Sara read the note once more. She didn't like it. It sounded like a goodbye.

* * *

He had been sitting there for a while, trying to figure out the best way to go. He would have said something painless, but he was so numbed by the pain now that nothing could ever really hurt him again, he couldn't really feel anything anymore. Setting himself on fire was good, but he wanted to look good at the funeral. For his parents sake. Going underwater and not coming back up, not very dramatic. Pills, they take too long, besides, he had no idea where to get them or how many to take. Poison, he'd end up jumping about like a fish while dying, and that wasn't poetic enough. Slitting his wrists was too cliched, and Greg didn't want to do a gunshot to the head, the big bullet hole in his temple might upset some people. The best way was to jump, Greg decided. He just needed a high enough building. He would feel bad for Nick, Catherine, Warrick, all his friends at the lab. He would even feel bad for Grissom. He would feel bad for Sara, only he knew it wouldn't affect her. She wouldn't even cry.

* * *

"Sara, have you seen Greg?" Grissom asked her when she came into his office.

"No, I was going to ask you that." she replied.

"He's not answering his phone." Grissom told her, and Sara bit her tongue before she could say "I know."

"I'm going to go to his place and see if he's there." she told her boss.

Her boss. She was going to have to start thinking about him as her boss again. That was all he ever would be.

When she arrived at the apartment, he didn't answer the door. Luckily, she knew where he kept his spare key, under the plant pot, so she picked it up and opened the door.

The first thing that hit her was the music. A song was playing on his C.D. player, and it filled the emptiness of a room with a yellow sofa and a framed picture of spongbob, a room with a shrine to coffee in one corner and a stack of magazines, C.D.s and movies that went all the way up to the ceiling. A room with a coffee table painted to like the ocean, and a T.V. that covered one entire wall. The room was still empty though. Because Greg wasn't in it. She went into the next room and gasped. The window was wide open.

_I'm at a payphone trying to call home_

_All of my change I've spent on you_

_Where have the times gone baby_

_It's all wrong, where are the plans we made for two_

_Yeah, I, I know it's hard to remember_

_The people we used to be_

_It's even harder to picture_

_That you're not here next to me_

_You say it's too late to make it_

_But is it too late to try?_

_And then that time that you wasted_

_All of our bridges burnt down_

_I've wasted my nights_

_You turned out the lights_

_Now I'm paralyzed_

_Still stuck in that time when we called it love_

_But even the sun sets in paradise_

_I'm at a payphone trying to call home_

_All of my change I've spent on you_

_Where have the times gone baby_

_It's all wrong, where are the plans we made for two_

_If happy ever after did exist_

_I would still be holding you like this _

_All those fairytales are full of it_

_One more stupid love song I'll be sick._

_You turned your back on tomorrow_

_Cause you forgot yesterday_

_I gave you my love to borrow_

_But just gave it away_

_You can't expect me to be fine_

_I don't expect you to care_

_I know I said it before_

_But all of our bridges burnt down_

_I've wasted my nights_

_You turned out the lights_

_Now I'm paralyzed_

_Still stuck in that time when we called it love_

_But even the sun sets in paradise_

_I'm at a payphone trying to call home_

_All of my change i've spent on you_

_Where have the times gone baby_

_It's all wrong, where are the plans we made for two_

_If happy ever after did exist_

_I would still be holding you like this_

_And all those fairytales are full of it _

_One more stupid love song i'll be sick_

_I'm at a payphone trying to call home_

_All of my change i've spent on you_

_Where are the times gone baby_

_It's all wrong, where are the plans we made for two_

_If happy ever after did exist_

_I would still be holding you like this_

_And all these fairytales are full of shit_

_One more fuckin' love song i'll be sick_

_Now i'm at a payphone..._

"Greg..." she whispered.

"Greg!" she screamed.

"Greg" she wept.

Sara wasn't sure how long she stayed in Greg's bedroom, saying his name and crying into his luminow orange carpet. She wasn't aware of time passing. All she knew was that, by the time Nick, Warrick, Catherine and Grissom ran into the room, it was dark outside. It was dark everywhere.


	2. Even the sun sets in Paradise

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**Thanks MG12CSI16 and Jannet525 for revieing this. Hope you like the next chapter.**

* * *

The song was still playing. He must have left it on repeat.

_I wasted my nights,_

_You turned out the lights_

_Now I'm paralysed_

As soon as the others ran into the room, Sara stood where she had been since first entering the room, her mouth slightly open.

"Where is he?" Warrick was asking.

"The window!" Catherine gasped.

"Sara, did you..." Nick began, his voice trailing off.

Catherine turned to Sara.

"What did you do to Greg?" her voice was angry.

Sara stood still, unable to defend herself.

"Sara, goddamnit, just because he told us what happened doesn't mean you have to go over here and..."

"Hang on." Warrick interupted. "Sara, what happened?"

She was silent.

"That's it, I'm calling the police." Catherine said, pulling her hpone out of her pocket.

"Now wait." Grissom said. "The first thing we need to do is find out what happened to him."

"Look out the window Nick" Warrick said.

"No. You do it."

"Catherine?" Warrick asked, and the womans face turned from one of anger to one of fright.

"I...I can't."

"I'll do it." Grissom said eventually, pushing past Sara.

He looked out the open window and saw the reason why Sara was so still. A young man with blonde and brown spiky hair lay on his face with his arms spread out. There was a pool of blood around hid head.

"Griss?" Nick asked.

"It's him" Grissom said, finally bringing his head back into the room.

_If happy ever's did exist_

_I would still be holding you like this_

_All those fairytales are fulkl of shit_

_One more fucking love song I'll be sick_

"It wasn't me." Sara whispered eventually. Catherine was crying, so was Nick. Sara had no tears left. What she felt was more than just sadness.

"We better go down." Warrick said eventually.

And so the five of them trudged down the stairs, out the back door and round to the alley outside Greg's apartment building. Grissom called Brass on the way and he said he had few guys just around the corner from Greg's house, he'd send them over. The CSI's walked slowly, as none of them wanted to see the energetic, bouncy, happy Greg they all knew lying on the concrete, lifeless. Sara at least hoped he'd had his eyes closed. Then they could all pretend it was just a deep, peacefull sleep he was in, like one of the times he'd fallen asleep in the breakroom after pulling one too many doubles. Sadly, they all knew that this time, he was never going to wake up again. There was a lot blood on the ground, Grissom had told them. He was lying in at least eight pints of blood.

But when they got down there, they got a shock. The blood pool was huge, but there was no body. Greg was gone.

* * *

There wasn't anything else they could do to him. They'd blown him up. They'd beaten him up. They'd stood him up. Greg started to think of everybody as "they" as it was him against the world. The people he used to call his friends were no different to the people who'd pulled him out of his car and attacked him. In the end, they were all just people, and Greg's job had taught him that people killed other people. In Las Vegas, you didn't get many people dying from animal attacks. People who died by falling off something, even if they were alone, it always came back to somebody. Their husband for not going with them. Their friend for texting her while she was walking past a cliff on a windy day. The shop salesperson who sold her a bad pair of shoes because his business needed the money. The man at the visitor centre for not warning her how windy it was. In the end, everyone was a killer. And Greg was dead.

Inside.

He was proud of himself. Archie, Henry, Mandy and Wendy had been too. It was the first time he'd ever seriously asked her out, and she'd said yes. He'd booked a nice Italian restaraunt and spent an hour with Wendy and Mandy trying to find a shirt that didn't have cartoon charecters, wierd slogans, floral or Hawaiin prints on it. He'd spent the longest he'd ever spent doing his hair. All his friends at the lab were tired of hearing him talk about it.

Greg hadn't planned on telling the other CSI's about it, he thought it might make things wierd, but Nick and Catherine still knew about his crush on Sara from the night after he'd passed his final profficency test. He'd had way too much to drink that night. They had told Warrick, and when the three of them noticed Greg's chirpiness, they'd asked him. So Greg had ended up telling his three friends about his date with Sara after shift on Friday night, and though none of them had ever asked her about it, they were a little surprised. Sara had never shown any romantic interest in Greg before, in fact, Catherine had always thought she was a little too interested in Grissom.

He'd waited for two hours. Then he'd gone home. He had been worried. Worried that she had been kidnapped or hurt so he'd called to her house. All he'd had to do was look in the window. She was fine. Sitting on the couch, watching telvision. Greg had left before she could see him, dropping the flowers he'd bought in her driveway. Then he stepped on them. It didn't make him feel any better.

On the way home in his car, every radio station was playing love songs. Greg flipped back and forth, until eventually, Maroon 5 Payphone had come on. Greg had downloaded the song on his ipod when he got home, and had played it everyday when he went out jogging, trying to run away from the pain. He couldn't. Greg had stopped going into work, calling in sick at first, but on the third day, he just stayed at home. He had opened his window and looked out.

_I f happy ever after's did exist, I would still be holding you like this_

There was one thing Greg was certain of, as he looked out the window. Happy ever after's didn't exist. And, he had thought, nothing ever after was better than miserable ever after.

_Yeah, all these fairytales are full of shit, One more fucking love song I'll be sick._

**Review if you want more!**


	3. Saying goodbye and making cupcakes

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI.**

**Okay, just so you know, italics are flashbacks, or Greg's letter. Reviews welcome!**

* * *

"Negative for blood." Warrick told them, holding up the cotton swab with the strange red liquid from the ground where Greg had been found.

"Doesn't smell like any type of food or drink." Grissom replied.

"Not nail varnish or paint either." Catherine said, shining the ALS on it.

"What is it then?" Nick wondered.

"Why would he lie down in it?" Warrick asked.

"Wait a minute. I got something." Catherine said, gesturing to where the ALS was shining.

"Blood." Grissom observed, looking at the small pool of real blood.

"So, only that much blood, he didn't jump out the window?" Nick asked.

"It would appear not." Grissom replied.

"You sure it was him? It couldn't have been like, a dummy or something?" Warrick asked.

"It was him." Sara whispered. "The hair...it was too perfect, too lifelike to be faked."

* * *

"He could have done it himself." Catherine said, turning of the ALS.

"It was just the same. It was Greg." Sara insisted, her voice still hushed.

"This doesn't male any sense." Nick said, taking a sample of the blood on the concrete."

"Get that to DNA, see if it's Greg's." Grissom said.

"And I'll call Brass, tell him to put out a broadcast on Greg." Warrick said, taking out his cell phone.

"Me and Cath are going to go look around his apartment." Nick told Grissom.

They were interupted by the arrival of three police officers.

"We were told there was a body?" one said.

"Where did it go?" added the second.

"That's what I want to know." Grissom told them.

* * *

The worst part was, he was too weak to do it. He had looked out the window for so long, feeling nothing, emotionless. He'd even put his foot on the window ledge, then pulled himself up so he was stamding, ready to jump. But he couldn't do it. Leaving his window wide open, Greg had gotten down from the window. He realised, the only reason he was doing this was to see what Sara said. If she really loved him. If his death would affect her. And if he died, he never would. Greg didn't believ in heaven. He didn't believe in hell, although he felt like he'd been there enough times. Greg didn't believe in an afterlife, didn't believe he would be able to look down on his friends as they carried on with their lives. Greg didn't want to die, didn't want to be plunged into eternal nothingness. He didn't really want to live in eternal nothingness either though.

_He needed to know what she thought, what she would do. He needed to know if she really felt nothing. But maybe dying wasn't the only way to do that. He opened up his cupboard and found an old bottle of hair gel. It was the stuff he used to use, before switching to a more expensive product when he got his job at the crime lab. Greg used to buy this stuff in bulk, and had about six pints of it left, so it had seeemed a waste to thow it out. He always said he waould use it if he ever ran out. Greg learnt how to make fake blood from Archie, back when the two of them used to make cases for each other and then try to solve them, practising to be CSI's. He needed motor lubricant. Greg loved cars, but he never had time to fix one himself, not since his dad had shown him how to when he was in high school. Luckily, the guy in the apartment next to him was big into fixing cars, so he would have plenty. _

_Greg looked at himself in the mirror. He looked dead. Thrwoing on his brightest shirt and tightest jeans in an effort to look more like himself, Greg fixed a smile on his face. He didn't want to trigger any alarm bells. Of course, he ended up in an hour long discussion about formula one versus formula two cars, but eventually, Greg made it back home with the motor lubricant. He looked in his fridge and found a bottle of chocolate syrup, such a pity to waste it, but the end justifies the means. He still didn't have red food colouring or hand sanitizer, and so, not fancying a trip round the building, knocking on all his neighbours doors, Greg simply walked to the grocery store. When he returned he mixed everything up, then checked his watch. He wasn't supposed to be in for another three hours, and nobody would sense anything was up until about sn hour after he was supposed to come in. Even then, it would take them an hour of calling to realise he wasn't answering his phone, and half an hour to drive to his apartment and longer still to try to break in. Setting his alarm clock for six hours later, Greg made some final preperations and then collapsed on his couch. He didn't dream that night, or if he did, he didn't remember. But the dreams had stopped a while ago for Greg. Around the same time as the feelings._

Greg shifted uncomfortably on the unfamiliar sofa. He looked at the clock, ticking slowly on the beige coloured wall, and realised she would be up in an hour. He needed to get out. Saldy, she had locked all the doors and windows, and had taken the key and hidden it somewhere. He started looking for it, turning over furniture and emptying cupboards. For a moment, Greg laughed, the bizarness of the whole situation getting to him. It was like when he was younger, and he would search his house looking for the candy his mother said would stick to his braces. Greg never found it. He didn't find the key either. Loosing interest in the game of hide and seek, Greg decided to make breakfast for the two of them. First, he had to put things back where they were. Cupcakes, he decided. That was what he wanted. She had to have a recipe book around some where. Strangely enough, for a woman, her house lacked many food producing appartaus, cookbooks being one of them. So he decided to wing it. By the time the owner of the apartment got up, Greg was covered in flour and trying to lick some pink gloop that he called icing off his elbow. He was starting to feel better. Just a little.

* * *

"Griss_" _Nick called out the window. "You might want to see this."

The note was on a piece of paper torn out of a spiral notepad. There was no mistaking Greg's handwriting.

_I'm sorry. _It read. _I can't go on like this. To be honest, it doesn't really matter what they do to me now, because there is no me anymore. Greg is gone. He went a long time ago, lost to someone else. I don't really think you'll miss me much. Maybe Greg, I understand missing him, I miss him too._

_Nick - thanks for being there for me. I'm sorry I won't be able to be there for you anymore. You were like my big brother, but you have to let go, leave me to move on._

_Catherine - you were the one I could always talk to, and you would always understand. Hold my secrets safe, Catherine, and please, don't cry over me. _

_Warrick - you always protected me. Don't hold grudges, this nobodies fault but my own. Everything will go back to normal, and soon, everything will be forgotten._

_Grissom - you were a great mentor and boss to me. I'm serious when I say that I hope you're happy. _

_Hodges - we always pretended we didn't like each other, but when the times got tough, I know you would be there for me. Thanks._

_Archie - you were my first friend at the lab, and I hope one day you can go to all the places we vowed to go together, and leave your mark. P.S. you can have my surfboard if you want it._

_Henry - you said that I was your hero, the one you wanted to be like. Don't be like me. Be you. Be Henry. He rocks._

_Wendy - tell Grissom that you want my job in the field, don't let memories hold you back. Don't let anything hold you back, and thank you for being such a good friend to me._

_Mandy - thanks for being there for me, and please, don't be mad at her. This was my decision._

_Bobby - thanks for showing me how to use a gun, in the end, they scare me too much. This was easier. I wish I was a brave as you._

_Jackie - I could always beat you at fingerprinting. But there was nobody like you for comforting. Thanks._

_Brass - you were good to me, like an uncle. There's nothing you or anybody could have done to prevent this. It was up to me._

_Sofia - I know you feel out of place, but you shouldn't. I had a great team, and they like you, I know they do. Don't worry._

_Sara - It wasn't your fault._

Catherine was crying in the corner, and Nick was fighting tears himself. Grissom didn't feel like crying.

"This doesn't make any sense." he said, puzzled.

"Grissom? What is it?" Warrick asked, coming into the apartment, followed by Sara.

Grissom silently passed the note, which they read.

"We should pass this on to the others." Warrick said evnetually.

Sara was silent, but her face had gone pale and her eyes glassed over.

"Hold on, we don't know yet that he's actually...you know..." Nick said, taking the note from Warrick.

Catherine looked up suddenly, her eyes no longer filled with sorrow, but with anger.

"Why would he write this if he didn't plan to die? Why would he stop coming to work, leave the window open, play that song. It's obvious."

"Then where is he?" Nick asked.

"The small bit of blood on the ground, maybe he was dead before he hit the ground. The blood, it could have just been transfer from a wound or something."

"But there's no blood in the house. Besides, it still doesn't answer how he got out the window in the first place, and where he went."

"Somebody found him? They found him in his apartment and brought him downstairs, when they heard us they left him on the ground, then took him again when we left the apartment."

"Who would take a dead body?"

"Maybe he wasn't dead yet! Maybe he...maybe..."

"Catherine, don't do this to yourself, we don't know what happened."

"We only know who's fault it is" she said, her eyes becoming angry again.

"It isn't anybodies fault" Grissom said.

"Sure." Catherine said cooly, before turning and going into the next room.

"Where are you going?" Grissom asked.

"To find out what happened." she replied. "Nick, Warrick, come on."

"I'll help" Sara said, suddenly stepping forwards.

"Haven't you done enough?" Catherine asked, following the two men into Greg's computer room.

Grissom looked at his team, confused. What was going on?


	4. Forgive and Forget, React and Regret

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**Thanks again to Janet525 again for reviewing, I updated this extra-quick for you! **

**Just so you know, the ingredients for the fake blood Greg made, I found them off .com/Make-Fake-Blood. Italics are Sara's flashbacks. This chapter jumps back a little bit, when Greg is describing what happened. Again, reviews are much appreciated!**

* * *

"He looked up how to make fake blood." Catherine said, looking at Greg's computer history.

"He wanted to fool us." Nick replied.

"Why is there real blood?" Warrick asked.

"That little, I suppose it could have been unrelated." Nick offered.

"Yeah." Catherine nodded.

"So, what are we going to do about Sara?" Warrick asked, taking down a book from Greg's bookshelves.

"She almost drove him to suicide." Catherine said.

"Yeah" Nick answered, "He said it wasn't her fault though."

"Who else's fault is it? He just said that to make her feel better." Catherine insisited.

"What we have to remember is, we don't think Greg killed himself." Warrick said.

"But he's obviously in a dark place man. We don't know where he is." Nick said, looking under Greg's bed.

"I still think we should talk to Sara. This is hard for her too." Warrick said, turning to face Catherine.

"It's her fault." Catherine said to Warrick.

"Sorry Cath, but I agree with Warrick. Let's talk to her."

"Fine."

* * *

Luckily, Greg had been a CSI for long enough to know how to fake blood spatter. When he was satisfied, Greg lay down, deciding to sleep for another while. He awoke an hour later to the sound of someone screaming his name. Sara. He could feel her eyes on him as she stared out the window, and hear her crying over the sound of the music he'd left on repeat. He heard her say his name over and over again, and a part of him felt happy that she cared, but he wondered why she hadn't come down to see him. She was obviously certain he was already dead, or else she had gone home. Greg couldn't hear any sound except for the music. He still lay there, wondering what to do next. He had hoped Sara would run down to him, upset and heartbroken, realising that she really did love him, like he loved her. She would touch his lifeless body softly, and cry over him. Then he would slowly move, as if waking up from the dead. He would probably be in trouble after, but nothing would matter because he would have Sara. Greg was convinced that she really did love him, that she just didn't know it yet.

When Greg heard the voices of the other CSI's, he was suddenly worried. What were they going to say when they realised he wasn't dead. From the sound of things, they were talking to Sara. So she must still be there. Wait...were they accusing her of pushing him? Greg groaned and pounded his head ontot the tarmac. What a mess he'd made. Suddenly realising that he shouldn't be moving, Greg regained his dead-body composure, just in time for his supervisor to look out the window and inform the others that he was dead. They seemed so upset. Greg knew he should probably get up, but for some reason he couldn't. He was too scared to move. What would they say when they found out what he'd done to them? They were coming downstairs now. Greg knew this was bad. Quickly, he got up. And then, wiping the fake blood from his fingers onto his already soaked jeans, Greg did what he did best. He ran.

He didn't just run from the alley behind his apartment building, he ran from his problems. Ran from his fears. Ran from his struggles and troubles and his miserable friends. Greg ran from his life.

* * *

"Sara?" Nick called, looking around the break room. No sign of her. He had checked the morgue and the police station. She wasn't in the DNA lab, the trace lab, the fingerprint lab, the ballistics lab, the tox lab or the A.V. lab. Both layout rooms were empty and the only people in the garage were a couple of swing shift CSI's. Warrick and Catherine had nominated him to speak to Sara as Catherine was still mad at her and Warrick wasn't so good with words. They hadn't estimated how hard it would be to find her. The only person in Grissom's office was Grissom, the only people in reception weree swing shifts and lab techs. Catherine and Brass's offices were empty and Mandy confirmed that Sara was not in the girls bathroom. Nick scanned the hallwways and checked all the freezers and cupboards and eventually he found her, hiding in the rooms where they kept all the bodies. She sat in the corner, her head in her hands, the mascara Nick didn't know she wore running down her cheeks.

"Sara." he said, sitting down next to her.

"It is my fault." she said, not looking at him.

"Sara, we don't even know he's dead, we..."

"He wanted to kill himself because of me."

"Sara, look at me." she lifted her head and turned to face him.

"The best thing you can do for Greg right now, is help us. We can find him, talk to him, everything will get better."

"Catherine..."

"Is ready to forgive and forget. So is Warrick."

"And you?"

"Sara, these things happen. I still don't understand why, or even what exactly happened, but we can sort that out later."

"If we find Greg."

"When we find Greg. When. We're going to find him Sara, and we can do it a hell of a lot easier with your help."

"Thank you." she said, hugging Nick.

"Anytime. Now come one, we have a case to solve."

* * *

_"So, Sara, I was thinking some time we could like, you know if you want to, we could go, if you don't want to it's cool, just you know, we could like... just wondering, we could go out to like a movie or soemthing. It doesn't have to be a movie. We could get pizza or coffe or go somewhere, I dunno, just you know if you want to..."_

_Oh god...he was asking her out. And not doing a very good job of it. Greg Sanders was asking her out. The biggest flirt in all of Vegas. And yet he was her friend, her funny, crazy, loveable friend and how could she say no without hurting his feelings? How could she say yes without hurting hers? Nick and Warrick had told her, he'd dated every female lab tech in the building, and he flirted with her, and Catherine every day. He was forever talking about girls and sex and hiding porn in the cupboards. What should she say?_

_True, when she'd known him, and now that he was a CSI, he seemed to be better. Mature even. And he didn't talk about his girlfriends much. Still, how could she forget the old him? But then she looked up at him, sensing the silence and realising he must have finished his long, speech and seemed to be waiting for an answer._

_"Sure." she said, mentally kicking herself._

_"Really?" He seemed surprised. That surprised her. He was able to get any girl in the country to go out with him, so why did he seem so honoured? And, come to think of it, why had he been so nervous when he asked her out?_

_She watched him walking out of the breakroom, high fiving somebody as he passed them. Then she saw something else. All the lab techs were gathered around him, congratualting him. What was going on? Then she had a thought. It must be a bet. He was playing her. He was no different to what he had been before. He was using her. It was time he got some of his own medecine._


	5. Happy Enough

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**Thanks to CSI001 for reviewing, hope you like this chapter. Italics, Sara's flashbacks. Hope everybody is enjoying this story and please, tell me what you think!**

* * *

She had finally decided that he wasn't too much of a threat to himself to be allowed out, although she still didn't want him to be alone. Honouring his promise not to tell anyone, she suggested they bought disguises then went out and did something fun. Having no clothes anyway, and unable to return to the crime scene that was his apartment, Greg agreed. Two pairs of sunglasses, a beret, lots of fake facial hair, and several clashing coloured clothes later, they set off. The funn thing about Vegas is, nobody pays much attention to a few wacky-looking people. Chances are, they're wearing something even wackier. They went bowling first. Greg won. The they decided to visit the childrens play centre in the bowling complex. They had great fun, until they were kicked out for being almost a metre over the height limit. They went to a diner and discovered that chips dipped in strawberry milkshakes tasted way better then ice cream on burgers. Afterwards, they went tot the cinema where they saw a film meant for three year olds, and she laughed at him for crying when the princess found her puppy and they hugged and promised never to leave each other again. When they got back to her house, she insisted on watching a scary movie, to balance out the one they had just seen, and the pair of them ended up hiding behind the sofa, trying to reach the popcorn without having to look at the gruesome sight in front of them. Eventually, it turned into a popcorn fight, which Greg won. Overall, he had a great time. Greg Sanders was becoming himself again. All he needed was a reminder of how things could be, a reminder of how to laugh, how to have fun. The only thing that could make the already perfect day better would be Sara. But you can't have it all. And for now, he had the laughs. Laughs were good too.

* * *

"So, it looks like he wrote the note and then tried to throw it away." Catherine said, looking at the case photos.

"Or at least forgot about it." Nick added.

"Because if he'd meant for us to see it, it would have been in a more obvious place." Warrick concluded, pulling out some new photos.

"The fake blood, do we know that was his doing?" Grissom asked.

"Well, the prints on the bowl that Nick found, where the blood was made all come back to Greg. Also, the neighbour says Greg asked him for motor lubricant, which was one of the ingredients in the blood." Sara told him.

"So he wanted to trick us." Grissom said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"He wanted to scare us." Catherine guessed.

"Well, he did a good job." Nick laughed a little.

"And it would make perfect sense if we knew where he was." Grissom added.

"Could the note be a part of the joke?" Warrick asked, taking it out of the evidence bag.

"No way, you read it, too deep." Nick said.

"Also, we ran DNA on the tear marks on the note, definately Greg' don't cry while writing a fake suicide not for a joke." Catherine explained.

"So at some point, he wanted to kill himself?" Sara asked, her face paling again.

"Maybe he left himself?" Nick said, in an effort to change the subject.

"It's possible, his feet were never in the blood so he wouldn't have left a bloody trail." Catherine admitted.

"This is hopeless." Warrick finally concluded.

"True." Grissom replied.

Then multiple pagers started beeping, Catherine was the first to locate hers and read the message.

"They found Greg's shirt and jeans in a trach can. Covered in fake blood." she told them all, althought they were already reading the message for themselves.

"And the cops are bringing them down to the la right now." Grissom added, putting his pager back in his pocket.

"Well at least we have a lead now." Warrick said, tipping back his empty mug to get the last drops of coffee out of it.

"Man, how can you drink that stuff?" Nick asked, looking at Warrick's cup.

"I hope we get Greg back soon." Warrick replied. "I want the good stuff back again."

* * *

_"The best thing to do, is not to cancel, but to let him be excited, let him look forward to winning his stupid bet and then just not show up. Let him think that I'm going to fall for it then make him look stupid in front of all his friends taht will probably be there." Sara knew she was disregarding every thing she'd ever witnessed in Greg, ignoring what she had thought she knew about him. The problem was that Sara had been hurt too many times before, so that now whenever she sensed that she would be hurt again, she became a different person. She just couldn't handle anymore deceit. It was why she tried to avoid relationships in the first place, too much possibility of heartbreak. So Sara began to craft her plan, oblivious to the potential heartbreak she was casuing somebody else._

_She had stayed at home that night, watched television, turned off her phone. When she went to bed later, Sara felt satisfied. She had saved herself. Sara Sidle was nobodies fool._

_The next morning she'd seen the flowers. She hadn't even realised he'd been there, but she recognised his scrawled handwriting on the note. Convincing herself that it was all part of his plan, and the fact that he'd obviously stamped on them waqs his irritation at loosing his bet, and not his sadness at her standing him up. When he texted her, pretetnding to act upset, so she told herself, she was starting to believe the things she had thought less and less. Feeling uilty all of a sudden, she had replied that she forgot to go to the date because she actually like Grissom, and was busy thinking of him._

_"You forgot." he'd texted back. "Yeah right. I get it, you like Grissom so you didn't want to go out with me. Don't make up stories Sara, and don't lead people on."_

_Then she'd felt really guilty, but she eventually fell asleep that night, having convinced herself it was all part of his evil scheme. The next morning she'd forgotten all about it. Four days later she wished she hadn't._

* * *

Hodges had checked the shirt and jeans for trace and, finding nothing out of the ordinary, had sent it to fingerprinting, where Jackie had gotten no usable prints, so she sent it to tox, where Henry had cocnluded that the chemicals in the blood would have definately not have impacted Greg's health in any way. He'd also found evidence that somebody had been crying onto his shirt, and so had sent it to DNA.

"When are we going to get the results back?" Nick asked.

"I don't know. Wendy's out and I'm not authorised to do anything other than check if it's male or female, so far female." The new lab tech told him.

"All you have to do is press a few buttons right?"

"Talk to Ecklie, it's his stupid rule." she sighed, before going back to her magazine.

"At this rate, we're going to figure out who the girl he's with is before thet test gets back." Nick grumbled, meeting Sara in the corridior.

"The dumpster is collected every morning, so the clothes must have been put there after eleven a.m. today." she told Nick, handing him some print-outs.

"And the stuff was near the top right?"

"Yeah. So we can assume they were dumped recently."

"Great. Greg's cell phone is off, or else the battery's dead." he added.

"So no way of tracing it."

"Nope."

"Nick? I want to thank you for talking to me earliear."

"No problem Sara, it's better now, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

* * *

He was beginning to feel at home in her apartment, and it had only been three days. He'd bought some hair products and arranged them in her bathroom, bought some coffee and hidden it in her cupboard, bought some new clothes and hung them in the closet in her spare room. They'd thrown out his bloody ones and were currently attempting to charge his phone using her All Device Solar Charger while watching Law and Order. The sun kept going behind a cloud, and they kept getting distracted by the television so it was taking a lot longer than they'd planned.

Greg still wanted Sara, but he was training his brain to forget her. He was living in the moment instead, focusing on now. YOLO, he'd told Grissom once, in an attempt to get off lab work. It had taken Greg ages to explain that YOLO was slang, an abbreviation for You Only Live Once. Grissom had responded with some Shakespere quote. Greg laughed just remembering it.

She liked somebody too, and had no idea what to do about it. She was confused, angry at herself. Helping Greg had been the best thing she'd ever done, and she'd been having a lot of fun with him, keeping her mind off the person she thought she might be in love with. He had fun with her too. That was why, as they finally charged his phone and congratulated each other with high-fives and back slaps, it seemed the only natural thing to do. That was why, as they looked at each other for a second, frozen in time, it seemed the logical thing to do. That was why, as they leaned in together and their lips met, it seemed sensible. It seemed right. Felt right too. There were no fireworks, no explosions, but it was the most either of them had evr felt before. That was why, as they curled up together on the couch, ignoring the reality T.V. show in favour of each other, they seemed happy. And they were. Not ecstatic, but happy. Not delighted, but happy. Not overjoyed, but happy. Happy enough.


	6. What is he doesn't want to be rescued?

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**Sorry it's so short, hope you enjoy it anyway! Italics are Greg's flashbacks, and they are the very last flashbacks in this story. This chapter is a bit choppy, goes back and forth between Greg's . and the CSI's P.O.V. As always, review please!**

* * *

_He wasn't sure how long he ran for when he bumped into her. _

_"Greg?" she'd yelled, taking in the blood on his clothes._

_"It's fake." he'd reassured her._

_"What the hell happened?" she asked him._

_"Can we go somewhere more private to discuss this, people are staring" he said, gesturing to the passers-by around him._

_"Well you can't go to a coffee shop looking like that" she laughed "come on, come back to my place"_

_So he did. He poured out his whole story to her, Sara, the suicide, the note._

_"The note!" he exclaimed suddenly "shit, they're going to find that and think I really did kill myself."_

_"Just call them? Or maybe go to hospital or something?"_

_"I'm fine, I swear. Please, please don't tell them where I am." he begged._

_"Alright then." she reluctantly agreed "But I'm not letting you out of my sight. Just in case you do something stupid."_

_"I won't." he sighed._

_"Whatever, so explain the blood?"_

_He launched into his story again, telling her about his plan, and how it had failed. After the whole story had been told she'd given him a hug, and offered to give him some food. To his surprise he found he was hungry, he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, so Greg accepted. He ate. After they watched television, Greg still felt sad and lonely. He slept on the couch that first night, not wanting to intrude by sleeping in the guest bedroom she offered. He still felt sad and lonely. But that was about to change._

* * *

"Hey, guys, we're getting something!"

"What?"

"Greg's cellphone is on!"

"Call him!"

"Quick call the rest of the team!"

"Okay!"

"Nick, Warrick, what's with all the yelling?" Catherine asked, coming into the A.V. room.

"Greg just turned his cellphone one, according to Archie. We just have to ring him and we can track it!"

"If he still has it." Catherine replied. "I'll get the other two."

When Grissom and Sara arrived a minute later, Sara took out her phone and quickly dialled their friends number, while the rest of them connected the phone to the tracking machine.

* * *

Greg's food fight was interupted by his cellpohne ringing, so he pulled it out of the charger, where it had lain, forgotten about.

"Quitter!" she laughed at him, picking up the marshmallows they had been throwing and putting them in the bin.

He stuck his tongue out at her as he checked the caller ID. Sara. Not the first person he wanted to talk to, or even think about. Dropping his phone on the couch and letting it ring out, Greg grabbed a cushion.

"Who says I quit?" he laughed, hitting her with the cushion.

* * *

"No answer." she said.

"Let's try again in an hour." Grissom said.

An hour later, Grissom tried calling Greg.

Greg didn't want to speak to him either, so he sent a busy signal and then put his eyes back on the road.

"He's ignoring us." Sara said.

"We can try calling him off a number he doesn't know?" Catherine suggested, so they set off around the lba to find somebody Greg had never called or texted. Sadly, every women in the building had given Greg her number, and most of the men had texted him at some time to organise one of the many social events he planned. When they eventually convinced a rookie cop to lend them his cellphone, they were two hourse behind on work and Ecklie had been calling Grissom about several new cases he had for them.

* * *

Greg loved the fair. Greg took a sneaky bite of her candyfloss while she wasn't looking, unfortunately she turned away from the ticket booth just in time to catch him and demanded that he give her some of his to make up for it. They began with a scary rollercoaster, then an inflatable slide. Next up was the ferris wheel, the bumper cars, the spinning teacups and something called The Tunnel Of Doom. When they were just picking their horses on the carousel, Greg's phone rung again. Yeliing at her to save the orange horse with a pink mae for him, he flipped it open. A random number. Probably worng number, he thought, shutting his phone again. Then the ride started moving so he had to run after the horse he wanted, trying to grab her hand. By the time he finally took a seat on his horse, the ride was nearly over. So naturally they went again.

* * *

"Greg..." Nick groaned. "answer us..."

"He probably doesn't want to talk, that's all" Grissom assured everyone. "Anyway, for now, we better go take some new cases. Let's meet back here at the end of shift to try again, okay?"

Everyone mumbled their agreement so they set off to their various locations, solving the crimes that meant nothing to them.

Warrick's case turned out to be open and shut. He had the guy who faked his own break in for insurance arrested by the end of the shift.

Nick and Catherines five car pile-up turned out to be a deliberate set up, for revenge against one of the poeple in the cars. They spent most of the night chasing four drivers around Vegas, trying to get statements and make arrests.

Grissom and Sara puzzled over a murder in the middle of nowhere with no evidence of a second person besides the victim, yet no murder weapon to be seen for miles, ruling out suicide.

Everybody finished at different times, so they decided instead of waiting for each other, they would just meet in the morning instead.

* * *

Greg slept very well. When he woke up, they made breakfast together, than lay across the table eating it and exchanging stories from their past. When the CSI's woke up, they all ate quickly and headed to work, meeting in the A.V. lab before Archie had even arrived.

Nick decided to call him. Greg checked the caller ID and decided to answer it.

"Sanders."

"Oh thank God."

"Nick?"

"What happended man?"

"Oh, yeah...nothing, I'm fine."

"Where are you Greggo?"

Greg paused for a second. He was having fun, and if he was honest, he didn't want to go back. Didn't want to go back to his job and his problems. Greg liked living this way. He knew deep down that he couldn't go on like this forever, it was more like a vactaion but Greg had always hated packing his bags to go home.

"It doesn't matter." he said eventually.

"It does matter Greg!" Nick replied, raising his voice.

Then Greg heard voices that he knew all too well. They were all there, with Nick.

"Hey, you're breaking up..." Greg said, and luckily, she understood exactly what he was trying to do and handed him an empty crisp packet out of the trash. Greg smiled gratefully and begun to crinkle it intot he phone.

"Hello? Hello? Nick? Are you... He...hello...he...lo...? Anybdoy there? Wha...what? I...can't hear you...breaking up...hello? Helllooo?"

Then he hung up.

* * *

"What was that?" Catherine asked, looking around at the other surprised faces.

"Who knows." Grissom replied. "But we've tracked his number."

"Yes!" Sara exclaimed.

Nick began copying the location off the computer screen onto a post-it sheet.

"Let's go, right now" Warrick insisted, heading to the carpark closely followed by the others.

They headed off in one of the Denali's, not recognising who owned the house they pulled up at. Grissom checked the codes. Yes, this was the right location. Sara ran ahead, not even knocking on the door, just opening it and running in. Then she stopped and all the others were unable to slow down. They crashed into eachother, like dominoes. Then they saw what she was staring at.

Greg Sanders, most certainly not dead, was kissing Wendy Simms.


	7. YOLO

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI**

**This is the last chapter. Sorry for not making this longer, I could have done a lot more with it, but it doesn't really interest me very much. I wasn't excited writing it, and I'm not mearly as into it as I was with Dont You Want Me or even Making The Cut. This was orginally only meant to be a oneshot, I intended to leave the first chapter by itself, but then I got a few reviews and I didn't want to leave people hanging, or kill off Greg, since I love him so much. Sorry if this story was a bitt of a disapointment, as I really didn't expand very much, by the end I was just trying to get it done. Anyway, I finished it, I hate when people don't complete stories and I always vowed that that would never be me. I hope the ending is okay for you all. Anyway, I'm going to start a funnier story now, to balance this and Dont You Want Me a little bit. I am new here, so I can't yet handle two stories at once, and I can't wait to start my new one. Please look out for it on my profile or read some of my othe stories. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing, I hope this is alright.**

"Greg?" Sara aksed in shock.

"Sara?" he replied, equally shocked.

"Greg?" Nick said.

"Greg?" Warrick asked.

"Greg?" Catherine echoed.

"Greg?" Grissom repeated.

"Guys?" Greg turned to look at his team.

"Greg..." Wendy began, suddenly feeling uneasy.

"Okay, we get it, I'm Greg." he said, adressing everyone. "Stop saying it."

"You, have got some serious explaining to do, man."

But, to Greg's surprise, he was ready to explain. So they all sat down in Wendy's living room, in the house that had been his home for the last four days, and talked.

* * *

The next day, Greg was getting his jacket out of his locker when Wendy came up to him.

"Wendy, I've been meaning to talk to you. I need to thank you again for everything..."

"It was my pleasure." she replied, smiling. "But what I want to talk to you about is..."

"Us." Greg finished, sitting down on one of the benches and patting the spot next to him.

"Yeah." she nodded, sitting down. "Listen, we had a lot of fun, but I think..."

"Me too." Greg said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You too?"

"Yes. We had good times, it's true, but I'll always think of you as a friend more than anything."

"I was going to say the exact same thing."

"Besides," he contuinued, "we both like other people."

"Me?" she asked, feigning shock and trying to hide her blush.

"I've seen the way you look at Hodges." Greg told her. "And I have no idea what you see in him, but if he makes you happy..."

"I think he could." she replied. "And you, and Sara?"

"I'm going to talk to her. If there's one thing this whole experience taught me, it's to live in the moment."

"YOLO." she laughed.

"Exactly" he replied, laughing with her.

"No hard feelings then?"

"None whatsoever."

"Me neither."

"Wendy, you helped me when I was in the darkest place I have ever been. And you will always mean something to me. Always."

"You'll always mean something to me too." she replied.

He leaned in to kiss her one more time and they broke apart, feeling happy. Happy enough.

"Goodbye Wendy."

"Goodbye Greg."

And then the two friends parted, off to find the people they really wanted.

Wendy walked out staright away, she didn't even notice Sara Sidle in the doorway.

Wendy found Hodges in the trace lab. No introduction was needed, she just kissed him. He kissed her back right away, and Wendy knew immediantly that things were going to be fine. Better than fine. She was going to be happy. Not just happy enough, ecstatic, delighted, overjoyed. It had taken Greg Sanders to help her realise that.

"Thank you Greg." she whispered, so silently that nobody could hear it but herself.

* * *

_He had his hand on her shoulder. They were talking so close to each other. They were laughing together. He kissed her again. All this time, Sara couldn't stop thinking that she was too late to save Greg. She hadn't needed to. He had Wendy now, and she hated to admit that she was jealous. She was too late to save Greg, she was too late to love Greg too._

"Sara?" Greg called, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"In here." she called back, and Greg came into the layout room, looking nervous.

"I'm sorry." he began.

"You? Why are you sorry?"

"I made you think I was dead."

"Greg, I almost made you really dead."

"I..."

"We're trained investigators Greg, we know you were going to commit suicide."

"Okay, you caught me. The only reason I did though, was because I wanted to see if you cared enough to be upset."

"Greg, of course I would be upset."

"I know that now."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing for what I did to you in the first place."

"Why did you do it Sara?" he asked her, looking up at her.

"I... I was afraid." she admitted.

"Of me?"

"I'd heard things...from some of the people in the lab..."

"Wait, Nick? You took him seriously?"

"A little. And it wasn't just him... Judy, Laura, Maya, Tanya, Susie..." she began, referring to the list of dayshift workers, receptionists, and cops who had told her about Greg being a player and a womaniser.

"My ex-girlfriends? You talked to them? Sara, I broke up with them, did you expect them to sing my praises?"

"They said you broke up with them after only a few nights, that you wouldn't commit, didn't want..."

"Sara, the reason I was never in a serious relationship with anybody before is beacaue you were the only girl I ever wanted."

Sara blushed slightly. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Greg laughed.

"What about Wendy? When I saw her, I thought..."

"Wendy is my friend. She never meant anything more than that to me. It's you Sara, it's always been you. You're the only girl I want."

"You're the only guy I want too." she replied smiling at him. "Grissom, I only said that because..."

"It doesn't matter what we did and said before. All that matters right now, is this moment. We have to live in it."

"When did you become a live in the moment kind of guy?"

"These last few days have taught me a lot."

"Me too."

And then, he leaned in to kiss her, and as their tongues danced together, fireworks exploding for only them to hear, Greg fpund himself thanking Wendy, for all she had done. He found himself thanking his friends, for finding him and bringing him back. He found himself thanking the lab rats, for always being there for him, to listen to him and cheer him up. He found himself thanking Sara, for loving him, and letting him love her in return. Most of all though, he found himself thanking himself, for learning to live in the moment, live for today, live as if it was his last chance. YOLO.

As they pulled apart slowly, and Greg took Sara's hand, leading her into his car, back to his apartment building, into his home like a prince taking a princess into a castle, Greg realised something. Happy ever afters did exist. You just had to look for them.

**The End...**

**Review PLEASE! **


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